


Kaleidascope

by The_Shy_One



Category: Constantine (TV), Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Arguing, Autism, Autism Spectrum, Autistic Spencer Reid, Bisexual John Constantine, Bisexual Male Character, Bisexual Spencer Reid, Crossover, Gen, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Magic, Mentions of Autistic Characteristics, One Shot, Past Drug Addiction, Past Drug Use, Past Relationship(s), Post-Break Up, Talking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-30
Updated: 2020-03-30
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:40:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23397901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Shy_One/pseuds/The_Shy_One
Summary: Spencer wasn't expecting to see John Constantine when leaving work nor expecting the request from the man when he spoke up.
Relationships: Diana Reid & Spencer Reid, John Constantine/Spencer Reid, Past John Constantine/ Spencer Reid
Comments: 8
Kudos: 100





	Kaleidascope

There wasn’t any way of avoiding John Constantine when he needed something from another person. Even cursing him to hell didn’t keep the man away despite it sometimes being better to stay away in the end for both parties involved. Spencer wished he had been one of the few that John respected enough to stay away - especially right after leaving his work for the day - but he should have known better than to expect that. John Constantine dealt with horrors beyond the general public’s knowledge and did so because he could.

No, that wasn’t the right assessment. It was because the man felt guilty for not saving as many as he could even with knowing how the twisted side of magic and the supernatural tended to turn out.

Not that he would ever say that out loud, not even to Spencer. 

Spencer looked down at the blond, sitting on the steps, smoking a cigarette with the same charming grin that once made Spencer giddy to have directed his way. Now it just made a feeling in his chest squirm, almost enough to get his fingers tapping against his messenger bag. It was a gut reaction to whatever John wanted, was going to ask of Spencer and knowing that it wasn’t going to be good.

“How’re doing, love?”

“Fine,” He said curtly. He felt one of his fingers move, inching to rid him of these awful feelings that were crawling around in his chest. “What are you doing here, John?”

“What do you think, Dr. Reid?” The smirk was familiar, framed by the smoke that curled out of it. It brought with it fond memories that Spencer could never get rid of. But he knew that along with that were the times that both of them almost didn’t escape, so close to death that the pounding of their hearts wasn’t enough proof that they were alive. “Embarrassed to have any of your coworkers think you believe in the occult? I know there’s a file on me somewhere in there, probably along with other unknown phenomena.”

“Well, I’m not Agent Scully and you don’t have the hair to pull off being Agent Mulder. So tell me what you want before one of my friends comes to throw you to the curb for harassing a federal agent.”

“Haven’t lost your sharp tongue, I see,” John says, almost fondly. It made Spencer stand straighter, wondering why a man who disliked looking at his own past was openly doing so now.

“Out with it.”

“Fine, fine. I’m here to see if you can get me an in to visit your mum.”

“No.”

As Spencer went to walk the rest of the way down the stairs, wanting to get home, he heard John protest loudly. “Wait!”

When he didn’t stop, John cursed and grumbled. Then Spencer heard the man get up and run down the steps, his footsteps hitting against the concrete noisily. “Spencer, wait!”

“Why do you need my help, John?” Spencer questioned cooley, not even pausing to look at the blond. There was an annoyed huff from John when he noticed Spencer wasn’t slowing down. “We agreed we were better off separate when Gideon offered me a job at the BAU.”

And how long ago that was. Spencer was still bright, filled with excitement for the job despite what it would entail. He had faced down demons and ghosts and other supernatural entities, what could humans do that could be worse than that?

A lot was the answer. Internally he winced at the memory of Toby Hankel and Lindsey Vaughn, both killers of different varieties. 

Sometimes, Spencer wonders if he should quit the BAU and go back to taking down the supernatural when faced with Unsubs like those two. He almost reaches the decision that would make his friends and superiors question his sanity. Other times he has to resign to the fact that it wouldn’t be any better hunting down the supernatural.

“We agreed, yeah. But some things are more important than that, love.” John says, keeping pace with Spencer. “I thought you’d remember that.”

“You know I do. But this my mom we’re speaking about John. You know what she means to me.” Spencer says back with a bitter edge to it. That was the one thing that he made John promise on all those years ago when they were together was that his mom wasn’t to be involved with any of this.

“I do, Spencer. But this is important, she has a book that I need to see.”

“What’s the case, John?”

This seemed to throw the man through a loop as his eyes widened for a moment. Spencer let himself glance into those brown eyes, wondering what his mom could possibly have that would warrant a visit from John for either of them.

“A lot of kids are being kidnapped by the fae. Being replaced with wooden copies.” John says, letting out smoke. It caused Spencer to wrinkle his nose at the smell but knew better than to try and curb the habit. “Usually you combat the fae by sticking a piece of iron underneath the door for protection, but these particular breed are a nasty piece of work. Keep going to different houses in the area if they can’t get another child.”

“And my mom has a book on how to combat them?” Spencer questions, taking a turn towards the metro station. It wouldn’t surprise him, his mother had been a professor on 10th-century medieval literature. She still liked collecting those books, reading them over and gave lectures to the other patients and doctors on her good days.

“Yeah, she has a copy of something I need to look over. She’s the only one who won’t throw me on my arse when asking.” Just before doing down the steps to the metro station, John dropped his cigarette on the ground and crushed it underneath his heel.

“You wonder why that is, John?” Spencer questions, using the metro card to get past the turnstile. John quickly followed after him, sticking close as he could with the crowd rushing around them. 

“Don’t use your degree on me, love. Not certified enough to handle what’s going up here,” He says, pointing at his forehead.

“Not even for a Masters degree?”

“Nope.” 

The grin on the man’s face told all that Spencer needed to know. It made him nervous, squirming around in his chest like a living creature. It was enough to tap his fingers against his messenger bag in a light rhythm to calm himself down. 

John seemed to have expectations of him that Spencer knew he couldn’t give him. There was more than just joining the BAU for why Spencer broke things off between them.

It went quiet between them after that. John followed after Spencer as he followed his route home, still after an answer from him. Spencer kept his eyes away from the man, still pondering over the pros and cons. For which would be the better answer to give John.

He knew that John would do everything he could to keep his mom safe if he did say yes. But depending on whether she was having a good or bad day, she might go after John if he said the wrong thing to her.

If he said no, the man would resort to other texts that were unreliable and more children would be taken, their parents distraught and confused. He knew the more children that are taken, the more likely that none of them would come back alive. That was how it was for both supernatural and human affairs.

As they made their way to his apartment, the stairs carpeted to soften the sound of their footsteps as they made their way up, Spencer made up his mind. He waited until they were in the apartment to tell John.

“You can go see my mom,” He started to say, watching as John looked at him with surprise. “But I want to go with you.”

“Why?” John asks, still looking slightly surprised.

“Because she’s less likely to attack you if it’s a bad day when I’m there,” Spencer explains. He watches as John mulls over his decision as if he were also going through the pros and cons of having Spencer at his side for the visit.

As he puts his messenger bag on the hook, John speaks up. “She have them often?” It was soft and considerate, something that John only did when he wasn’t sure if he should let a person come with him or not.

It drove Spencer nuts years ago and was now insulting after everything that’s happened.

“Not as often as it was before she was put in a psychiatric hospital,” Spencer admits. “She’s doing better now.”

“You still send her letters every day?”

That detail made Spencer smile softly. John wasn’t known for remembering stuff like that. Maybe he made exceptions for the people he was really close to. Or maybe he kept all the details to himself, closely guarding them as if they were precious.

Or maybe Spencer was reading into something that he had no right to examine.

“I do. Garcia is the one to send them when I’m away on a case,” He says as if including that particular detail was necessary. He looks away, embarrassment creeping through him, making him note how unnecessary it was.

“That’s good. Hopefully, she remembers me enough.”

“Yeah, hopefully.”

There was nothing left to say, so Spencer opens the door again. John, used to his quirks as a not quite socially conscious person - he understood the unsaid rules to a degree, but actually following them as he should was hard, so  _ damn _ hard - gets what Spencer intends and leaves through the open door.

It didn’t take long for Spencer to write down a letter for that day, setting it along with some of the other letters that Garcia would take care of. Then he called Hotchner to tell him he needed a few days off to go spend some time with his mom. It was granted without issue and there was even a soft request for Spencer to tell his mother that Hotchner said hello to her.

___________________

The plane ride to Las Vegas was mostly uneventful. Spencer brought with him the noise-cancelling headphones that Rossi had gifted him some time ago to block everything out besides the familiar sound of his music playing softly in his ears. As he went through the academic articles that Garcia had printed out and put into a binder for him to read, actually put them in his hands as he was leaving his apartment that morning.

Somehow he knew that John was giving him a glance from time to time, probably muttering about Spencer trying to become a know it all. All said fondly, of course.

The hours flew by, facts cementing themselves into his brain as he continued to read over the articles. All too soon, he looked up to see that they were descending. He looked to his side to see John sleeping, a bit fitfully. As quietly as he could, Spencer put the headphones back in their case and put them in his carry on bag along with the binder of articles. 

The plane landing on the runway woke John up, making Spencer smile when he heard the blond curse. The slang the man used always amused him, knowing most of it would make a normal person become offended.

The easiest part of all of that was leading John out of the airport, having done this part many times over the years. A text from Garcia reached him as he exited the airport, telling him that she got him a rental car to use. He smiled as he read over her directions on where to find the rental, unconsciously grabbing at John’s hand to make sure he didn’t lose the man in the crowd. 

It wasn’t until they got the car that he even noticed this little bit of detail. Hastily, he let go of John’s hand, his mind worrying over the fact that John would misinterpret that.

“Still got your license, love?” John asked, unaffected by all of it.

“I do, just a bit since I’ve had to use it.” He says opening the driver’s side. He got in, adjusting the seat to his height. “Usually the others drive when on cases.”

“They don’t trust you behind the wheel?” The teasing tone from the other man was noted and despite knowing he shouldn’t smile, Spencer did.

“I think they took note of my skills when mentioning that one time on spring break we took a plane to get tacos.” He said. Hearing John’s laughter, close to boisterous as it can ever be as he started up the car was something he hadn’t quite expected when revealing that. A chuckle at most, maybe even a knowing smirk.

“Mate, the way you drove the plane, I wouldn’t ask you either,” John says, smiling bright, brighter than Spencer had ever seen from the man.

The comment made Spencer wrinkle his nose, a response that he knows will give the man a further reason to laugh. (He observed this with his own team and noticed it hardly missed despite the less humorous situation.)

He was right as John let out a chuckle, still smiling. “Laugh, but we got tacos.”

“We did, love,” John says, putting something in his tone that Spencer was afraid to read. “We did.”

Spencer drove them to the hospital, letting the quiet settle over them. Las Vegas was still a hectic city and while he could drive, Spencer still didn’t like to drive through cities if he could help it. A few times he had to drag his attention away from the road to grab a cigarette out of John’s mouth.

“This is a rental.” He says, crushing it between his fingers and putting the remains into a small baggie. “I’m not letting the FBI pay extra because you can’t wait to smoke outside.”

John huffs. “Never bothered you before.”

“I let you get away with it before.”

“Liked me that much, love?”

“I was a lovesick fool, John. Or as much as I could be for twenty-something,” Spencer said, borrowing a phrase he’s heard Gideon and Rossi use before. He didn’t know if it fits in this context, but it was better than nothing.

John lightly chuckled but didn’t say anything further. Probably thinking of how he would be able to smoke in the car. This thought caused Spencer to sigh lightly. The man was more trouble than he ought to be, and yet, Spencer knew that if he weren’t, he wouldn’t be John.

Soon they arrived at the hospital. John kept close to Spencer, watching as he followed the routine he did every time he visited his mother. He could even smile at the nurse at the sign-in sheet, a familiar face who was kind to him.

“How is she doing today?” He asked, signing in his name and then John’s. 

She perked up at this question, a grin shining bright. “She’s having a good day today. She’ll be happy to see you, Dr. Reid.”

“That’s good.” He said a bit more script than he expected to hearing good news.

“And I’m sure she’ll enjoy Mr. Constantine’s company as well. Last time I checked, she was preparing a lecture.”

That brought a smile to Spencer’s face. “Hopefully, he can keep up. She gives hard quizzes.”

The nurse smiled, even giggled a bit at his answer before letting them go on their way. Spencer could feel John’s stare at the back of his head but forced himself to not look back at the blond. Sometimes, it was better to not question people about why they stared at him even if it was easier that they explain themselves about why they were.

They arrived at his mom’s room, the door partially open. Spencer knocked on the door frame and pushed the door to open up more. She sat on her bed, papers surrounding her with her handwriting on them. In her hand was a book, one that Spencer sent her months ago.

“Hello.” He said. She didn’t startle, glanced up to see him standing in her doorway. It truly was a good day for her.

“Spencer, you didn’t tell me you were visiting.” She starts, putting the book down with the papers. “Who’s with you? He’s handsome.”

Her comment made his heart clench slightly. Even if he did omit certain details about his adventures with John in his youth, he knew that she knew about their relationship and why it ended. 

But he pushed through, putting a smile.”Mom, this is John Constantine. He’s visiting with me to ask you something for a case he’s looking over.”

“The con man? Spencer.” She said tone close how he would imagine her stern motherly tone if she had been able to raise him like she wanted to.

Before he could answer her, John spoke up. “Keeping my hands to myself, ma’am.”

“Don’t put on an act for me, Constantine. Spencer has told enough about you.” Diana said. She moved to the edge of her bed, allowing her feet to touch the floor.

“Seeing where he got his sharp tongue from,” John mutters, before speaking louder,” Understood. I’m really here to look over a book you have.”

“I don’t have anything magical.”

“Not magical, but it does contain info on how to counter the fae that’s been taking children the last few days. Lot of medieval stories do that, it’s why they hold as much sway as they do in the modern-day.”

This seemed to spark some recognition in his mom’s eyes, widening as she stood up. “Wouldn’t be this, would it?” She asks, picking an older book off her shelf.

He went to see the title, reading it over with the passive expression that Spencer used to see when they worked cases together. “Yeah, that’s it.”

She handled it with care, letting John look over her shoulder as she moved through passages that could be helpful. While not the same as a photographic or eidetic memory, his mom studied these books enough to know where the information could be.

Spencer goes to sit on the bed, looking over her papers. Her handwriting, familiar and filled with the thoughts of the professor that his mom once was. If she had been able to continue her job, Spencer wished he could have seen her command a lecture hall like he and Rossi did with their seminars. She probably could tell jokes and charm the students like Rossi had done.

“Don’t cheat, Spencer.” She said, bring him out of his thoughts. “At least give Constantine a chance to prove himself.”

“Oi, give me some credit!” John said. Spencer saw that he was kidding, a small smile present on the man’s face.

_________________________

The sun was edging closer to late afternoon by the time they left the hospital. Even with liking the time spent listening and engaging his mom’s lecture, he felt tired. John, sensing his off-kilter mood, didn’t say anything. Spencer took control of the wheel and drove them to the airport.

Even with an additional person in tow, Spencer was able to follow the same routine he had done before when returning home. When waiting for their flight, Spencer took out his noise-cancelling headphones, knowing he needed them now more than ever. Closing his eyes, Spencer let himself drift in the darkness behind his eyelids.

It was rare, but Spencer had fallen asleep on the plane almost as soon it was level in the air. He didn’t dream, only catching flashes of images that repeated themselves. When being woken up by someone shaking him, he saw that most of the passengers were up and moving down the aisle.

Looking to John, he saw that small smile again like Spencer was the only one to see it. Spencer stretched, moving to put his noise-cancelling headphones back in their case. “What time is it?” He asked.

“Nine at night, love,” John says, handing him his carry-on bag.

“That means I can get some extra sleep before the next case is called in. Tell me how yours goes, John?” Spencer says, moving down the aisle. He expected that to be the last of their contact, but he was surprised to feel John grab at his wrist and turn him around to face the blond.

“You’re sure you want to stay with the FBI love?”

“What are you presuming, John?”

There was a bit of doubt in those brown eyes, but there was something else that pushed the man to say,” Your talent is wasted with those profilers. Don’t you miss going after the supernatural?”

“John,” Spencer starts, using the same tone his mother had hours earlier. “I’m content where I am. Don’t presume you know what’s going on in my mind.”

“But you’re allowed to do that with me?” John snapped.

“I haven’t John, not once since I saw you on the steps. I have my suspicions, but nothing concrete.”

“Fancy talk for saying you have.”

Spencer sighed, wondering why the man was picking a fight now when he was drained and unlikely to hold his sharp and biting words back. “I’m not a psychiatrist, John, I’m a profiler. I make educated assumptions about who we’re after to catch them. You, however, don’t seem to understand the difference despite being a more desirable functional member of society.”

There was a look of shock on John’s face, is grip loosening around his wrist. “You really think that, love?”

“We live in an ableist society, John. I know where I stand with the average person more than many would realize. Now let’s go our separate ways.” Spencer says, jerking his arm away.

He moved up the aisle, giving his best and polite smile for holding up the crew. He didn’t hear John until the man suddenly appeared next to him at the baggage claim.

“You really think that anybody would prefer me over you? Screw up and murderer?”

This made Spencer stop. “What happened, John?”

“Got the soul of a little girl damned to hell. Was to cocky for my own good.”

Spencer sucked in a breath, suddenly understanding John’s insistence now. “You think I would have found a better way. Or kept you from making the mistake.”

“Something like that.” Was all John was going to admit.

“It probably would have turned out the same if I had been there. Being a profiler hasn’t been easier either.” Spencer admitted, grabbing his bag. “I was tortured and drugged by an individual who had three separate personalities on one of my cases. Tobias Hankel was his name.”

This admitted fact caused the blond to look up at him. He knew there was a bitter and sad smile on his face, but he couldn’t control it. “Bad things happen, John, it’s what we do with after the fact that makes us who we are.”

“Quoting one of these posh philosophers, love?”

“Just general advice from a trusted colleague.”

“Better advise than I could’ve given.”

“You’d probably tell me to steal a plane again,” Spencer says. He lights up when he sees the small smile on the man’s face as they exited the airport.

“Could be worse things to do,” John admits, finally pulling out a cigarette to smoke. “See you around, love.”

“The next time, you better have better X-files references.”

“Right, right, love.” He says, smoke curling out of his mouth.

“You do realize in the context of that show, they would have a file on you?”

“Everyone has a file on me. Doesn’t make them any more special.”

“Agent Mulder would disagree.”

It was nice to hear that boisterous laughter once more before Spencer hailed a cab to go home.

**Author's Note:**

> Here's a crossover fic between two of my favourite characters! Since I have a lot more free time due to the pandemic, I figured I should write some of my more indulgent ideas that I have rattling around. This was fun to write and I'm hoping others will like it during this rough time.
> 
> Also, I'm betting there is an X-file on John due to the fact in the first episode it mentions that Mulder read all the case files and researched everything that had to do with that including the occult (which John is certainly part of.) That would be a fun crossover fic to do if I get far enough into the show. Can see Mulder bugging the hell out of John if they ever met lol.
> 
> Anyway, hopefully, it was a fun one-shot to read! :D


End file.
